


Being Thin, Being Beautiful

by letyourwordsout



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Eating Disorders, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Overweight, Teenlock, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 09:59:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/848216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letyourwordsout/pseuds/letyourwordsout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>TRIGGER WARNING-CHARACTER WITH EATING DISORDER</p>
<p>Mycroft Holmes decided to take his weight into his own hands, with dangerous results.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Being Thin, Being Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING-CHARACTER WITH EATING DISORDER  
> I don't own anything.  
> Stay fabulous.

Mycroft Holmes grew up knowing that he wasn’t attractive, or even cute. No, he grew up knowing his intelligence was the only thing that his parents seemed to like about him, and that extended to other people as well. When Sherlock was born, the women would gush over how adorable he was, how much he’d grown since they’d last seen him… But the women avoided Mycroft (not that he really cared about them) and instead, the men would approach him and they’d discuss important things like politics, and science. The men would never take his opinion as real, simply some little childish thing, but they’d constantly be in awe over how well Mycroft could carry on a conversation about politics, and constantly seemed to believe that his father had him memorize facts and statements and arguments. Which wasn’t true. But back to his lack of attractive features. Mycroft knew, he knew that everyone else knew, and he knew more than ever when he asked a young woman in his science class to the dance and she refused, calling him ugly and annoying before running off with his friends. That was in sixth grade, and that was the first time he’d turned to food to get rid of his emotional turmoil.

Mycroft didn’t inherit his natural figure from his extremely slim mother (like Sherlock had) but rather from his larger-built father. But his father had muscles to make the large build seem natural. Mycroft, no matter what he did, could not gain any muscle at all, and because of his new eating habit, he was gaining weight rapidly. When his mother was throwing a party and he could no longer fit into his dress pants, he knew he had a problem, and he knew he had to get rid of it as soon as possible. He remembered hearing an older girl at his school talking about throwing up her food to keep her waist slim, and so, he knelt in front of the toilet and threw up. Of course, his mother walked in, but she didn’t understand. She believed him to be sick, and made him stay in bed and not join the party. He was welcome for the distraction and the excuse, and found himself feeling much better now that it was gone.

Soon, that became a habit as well. He kept off the pounds, he wasn’t mocked any more for being fat… But he had horrible headaches. But he ignored them because he was THIN. It felt amazing. Then, one day, he was taking Sherlock for a walk through the park, and met a boy. His name was Gregory Lestrade, and he was the most attractive boy Mycroft had ever met. He was charming, and funny, but polite, and caring. They made plans to meet up the next morning for coffee before school, and then Mycroft had to take Sherlock home. The night dragged by, yet before he knew it, he was standing there, drinking coffee and laughing with the cutest boy he’d ever seen.

Their relationship lasted a long time, neither of them too picky, so there were never really fights, just spats that were over in minutes. But as time wore on, Greg started to notice that Mycroft was obscenely thin.

“Hey, Myc?” he asked his boyfriend as they laid on the couch.

“Mmm?” Mycroft answered, half asleep.

“Why… why… are you okay?” Greg asked quietly.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Mycroft said slowly, sitting up to face him, ignoring the pains in his lower stomach.

“Then why don’t I ever see you eat? Or if you do, you seem to not feel well?” Greg asked quietly.

“Greg, I-” Mycroft started, then felt woozy, “I-” and he passed out, there on the floor. Greg called an ambulance and drove to the hospital behind them. He took a deep breath as he entered the room of his boyfriend.

“How on earth could you ever think that you needed to do this?” he asked quietly. “I’ll do better next time, I promise,” he whispered.

* * *

And he did, for years and years and years, Greg would keep Mycroft away from the bad habits. He would do anything to make sure his lover was all right, and eating, and keeping it down. He found that kisses and compliments helped a lot. Much more than even Greg understood. Each kiss was a promise. A promise of Gregory’s love for Mycroft. A promise that no matter what, Greg would be there. A promise that Mycroft was gorgeous and Gregory would always view him that way. Work made life harder. Greg was out at weird times, and had to leave dates because of some case he had to go look at. Mycroft had to leave the country to discuss important treaties. But no matter what was going on, Greg made sure that Mycroft was feeling all right, safe and happy and secure and beautiful. And if he wasn’t, then he’d make sure to tell everyone not to bother them, and would spend plenty of time showing Mycroft how beautiful he was.


End file.
